Sam's Therapy Session
by supernatgrl13
Summary: What might happen if Sam went to see a shrink


Sam's Therapy Session

The Winchesters were sitting in the Impala outside of a psychologist's office.

"Sammy, what the hell are we doing here?"

"Dean, please, you need to talk to someone, and if you won't talk to me, can't you just… please talk to the doctor."

"Sammy, turn this car around right now!"

"No." Dean looked at him like he was crazy. "Look, I know Dad's death hurt you, but you can't keep it all in."

Dean knew that his brother was right and that he meant well, but that didn't mean he had to like it. _Damn those freakin puppy eyes._

"If I go in will you shut the hell up?"

"Yup," Sam replied, trying to hide his joy.

Dean opened his door and climbed out. "Remind me to never let you have control of the car again," he mumbled, just loud enough for Sam, who was also just getting out of the car, to hear him.

Sam just smiled and kept walking, knowing that Dean was gonna be sour for a little while.

* * *

It seemed like Dean had been in there forever until he finally came out. Sam stood up and asked, "What'd you talk about?"  
"Stuff," Dean replied.

Sam wanted to ask more but the doctor came out and called him in. With one last look at his brother, who was now sitting in one of the chairs, he followed the doctor into the room.

"Please, take a seat Mr. Winchester."

"Please, just call me Sam."

"Okay Sam, why are you here today?"

"Really I actually came here for my brother." I made a look that apparently looked like disappointment or something, because he added, "I'm not saying that I don't need to be here. God knows there are some things I'd like to get off my chest. It's just… my brother's been through a lot and I can't get him to talk to me, so I was hoping that maybe he would talk to you."

"If it helps, I did make a little progress with your brother. " I immediately saw Sam's expression to change from one of worry to that of joy.

"So, what kind of things do you want to get off your chest?"

"Gee Doc, I don't know where to start?"

"Okay, what about your Mom? What can you tell me about her?"

"Not much; just what Dean's told me. She had blonde hair and she used to tell him that angels were watching over us before he went to bed."

"Do you believe in angels? Or a higher power?"

"I do. I can't help but assume that there's good out there as well as bad."

"What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your mother?"

"Jessica," Sam answered immediately.

"Who's Jessica?"

"She was my girlfriend."

"Was?"

"Yeah… She died."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. It was over a year ago now, but sometimes I still expect to see her. Just like I do with my dad."

"Okay, and what else can you tell me about your dad?"

"My dad was a great man," Sam replied without hesitation. I was shocked by how alike yet different these two men were. Similar answers, but their attitudes were different. "I never got along with my dad, we argued about the stupidest things. The last time I saw my dad we were arguing."

I looked at the man and could tell that he was reliving the memory. "What were you arguing about?"

"Dean."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Dean was in a car accident and he was really hurt. He was in a coma in a hospital, and I thought that my dad was just gonna leave Dean there to die."

"And did he?"

"No… he went out to talk to people and try to find a way to help Dean."

"What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your father?"

"A brick wall."

"Why a brick wall may I ask?"

"Because he would get determined on one thing and once that happened he was unbreakable. Like, he used to take us… hunting… and he would tell us to hit the… animal… right or just go back and sit in the car. He never allowed any room for error. He was so… so." I watched as the man's eyes misted up quickly and just as quickly cleared.

"If you don't mind me asking, how old were you at the time?"

"Um… I think I was about seven the first time my dad took me hunting."

"Seven? Isn't that a little young?"

"Well, my dad was really into hunting; he would do it all the time with his friends. He taught me and Dean how to shoot a gun at a fairly young age, but we didn't mind. We just wanted to spend more time with him." He said the last sentence so quietly I almost couldn't make out what he said.

Again, the Winchester's seemed to leave me with nothing to say, so I just waited for him to talk. "You know the saying, "You don't appreciate what you have until it's gone?'" he asked me.

"Yeah?"

"It's true. I admit that I never really like me father. I mean, I loved him and everything, but I never really wanted to talk to him. When I was a teenager, I just felt like he didn't care about me, that no matter what I did, it was never enough. I guess I always knew that he was just doing it 'cuz he wanted me to be better, but I never appreciated it until he died."

"If there was one thing you could tell your dad, what would it be?"

"If I could, I'd tell him that I love him, and, despite my attitude and all of the fights, I always have." Sam looked to the clock and said, "Time's up."

I turned around and looked at the clock on the wall behind me. "I guess your right. Well, thank you for coming to see me today. I hope you and your brother feel better soon."

Sam smiled at me and said, "Oh, we'll be fine. Thank you, Doc."

With that he turned around and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.


End file.
